


the stars freckling his skin

by oldmythologies



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Fluff, Future Fic, M/M, Stargazing, mostly?, soft, stargazing in the desert
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-06
Updated: 2017-09-06
Packaged: 2018-12-24 12:29:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,960
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12012759
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oldmythologies/pseuds/oldmythologies
Summary: The war is over. They're finally home. They fix up the red speeder and get to fly.Commissioned by @lookforanewangle <3





	the stars freckling his skin

**Author's Note:**

  * For [lookforanewangle](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lookforanewangle/gifts).



> Commissioned by lookforanewangle on tumblr. Bless you, thank you for your support, and you're amazing <3
> 
> EDIT: [HEY GUYS UM THE LOVELY V-0-3 MADE ART FOR THIS AND I'M KIND OF DYING (tumblr)](https://v-0-3.tumblr.com/post/165915134057/little-gift-for-oldmythos-inspired-by-her-fic-the)
> 
> [THIS IS THE TWITTER LINK AND I'M STILL DEAD](https://twitter.com/v_0_3/status/914286079540375554)

Keith woke up suffocated in warmth. He didn’t have to open his eyes, taking in a breath that was distinctly Shiro. His shoulders rose and fell with his exhalation, the air bouncing off of Shiro’s neck and coming back sticky and hot. They always fell asleep side by side, getting closer dream by dream. Their legs intertwined, Keith on his side trying to feel as much of Shiro as he could, tucked into the space between his head and shoulder.

Shiro mumbled in his sleep, his head falling to the side and into Keith’s hair. Keith slung an arm over his wide chest and snuggled in closer. Shiro murmured, shifting as he woke up. Keith groaned in displeasure.

“Too early,” he murmured into Shiro’s neck.

Shiro’s laugh was a deep rumble under his ear. It shook his eyes open.

He immediately regretted it, squinting against the light that happened to spill between the blinds and right into his crusty eyes. Shiro peeled himself out from under Keith, stretching in the early morning light. Watching the muscles play under Shiro’s scarred skin, Keith no longer regretted it.

Shiro turned to him with a lazy smile, stripes of light streaking across his face like God’s brushstrokes.

“It’s a whole new world, Keith. We can finally do what we want.”

He crawled across the bed, through the clean sheets, god knows how many pillows, the thick comforter, and hovered above Keith. He leaned down to place a chaste, smiling kiss on his forehead, but Keith reached his chin up and caught the lips with his instead.

Shiro inhaled his surprise and fell into it, letting Keith take the kiss, hand supporting him on either side of Keith’s shoulders.

Shiro’s smile was infectious. Keith pulled his lower lip into his mouth with a bite and flipped them over, straddling Shiro’s waist and happily leaning down to nip at his face, his jawline, his ear, and that spot behind his ear that Keith knew was ticklish.

Shiro giggled and wrapped his arms around Keith’s neck.

There was no heat to it. It wasn’t about heat, it wasn’t about getting into his pants, it was about the fact that they could. They could lay in bed all day and do nothing but kiss and laugh and have tickle fights. After years of fighting, they’d earned it.

God, they’d earned it. They’d lost count of the scars they had to prove it.

Shiro eventually shoved Keith off the bed and raced him down to the kitchen, where Keith once more pinned Shiro to the counter with his biting love, before that was interrupted by a puff of flour in Keith’s face. The kitchen was a mess, and for once, they would have to clean it.

After breakfast, they happily did so, carefully avoiding every food fight that threatened to surface along the way.

Neither of them could stay sedentary for long, and when noon hit, Keith grabbed Shiro’s hand.

Shiro looked up from his book with a cocked eyebrow.

“Where are we going?”

“Just trust me.”

“Always.”

* * *

The house they chose was small, considering the size of their stipend. The walls were dust stained and sand piled up in the corners where Home met the Earth, but that was okay. The landscape stretched out in every direction, mountains on one side, miles and miles of desert on the other. It was the closest thing they could find to that shack in the middle of nowhere while still allowing themselves the little luxuries: air-conditioning and a full kitchen, a separate bedroom, a bath tub with jets.

The second the door opened, a wave of heat socked him in the face. The desert sun burned off the sand and Shiro brought his hand up to guard his eyes from it. He chased Keith’s hand around to the back of the house, to an old shed he’d noted when they moved in but hadn’t done anything with since.

Keith released his hand to open the door and ducked in before Shiro could ask any more questions. Shiro followed with a sigh.

It took a few moments for his eyes to adjust. The first thing he saw was Keith; Keith was always the first thing he saw. Then he took in the walls, the familiar maps, piles of old clothes and pictures and a smell that pulled on the strings of his memory.

In the center of the hut, he saw it.

The red speeder.

He blinked, certain that as soon as he opened his eyes it would be gone. It wasn’t. Even more, it didn’t look exactly like it had last time he saw it, god, how many years ago now? The paint was peeling off in the corners, the red faded pink, and the back engine looked liked it wouldn’t turn even if they were brave enough to start it up.

“Keith,” he spoke, breathless, “what is this?”

Keith’s smile caught the light spilling in from the open door.

“Don’t you remember, Shiro?”

His words followed him as he took slow steps forward.

“You told me to take care of it, which I tried my best to do, but…” he trailed off, stepping into Shiro’s space and grabbing the hands back in his own.

“Maybe we can fix it together?”

Shiro squeezed Keith’s hands and turned back to the speeder.

He remembered the first time he rode it, when it was still a piece of shit that he’d bought with that first minimum wage job and allowance money. He remembered painting it himself, bringing it with him to the garrison, replacing it part by part until it wasn’t the bike it started as at all.

He remembered showing it to Keith, riding out into the great beyond with Keith’s arms tight around his waist, into the stars with Keith at his back.

He remembered dropping the keys in his hand and giving him a tight hug.

_I’ll be back before you know it_. _Take care of her for me_.

She was rusty. She was broken. He kind of was too. He gave Keith the biggest smile he could.

“Let’s do it.”

It was familiar. It was easy. Being with Keith had always been _easy_ , but now there was something more to it. A certain knowledge of each other, of every single movement, every twitch of the jaw and what it meant. Shiro could read Keith’s temper like the stars; Keith knew exactly what to do to remind Shiro of where he was.

Working together was easy.

Working on the bike was easy.

They both knew way more about engines than this little bike required. It was _easy_. It was weird, not to have to be constantly searching the universe forever, to have the weight of an entire universe on their shoulders. They were free to laugh, free to spend as much time as they wanted carefully sanding off the old paint and applying the new, layer by layer.

Shiro insisted that he paint it himself, no matter how much Keith offered to help. It was his bike, his burden to bear. The rust fell off, stroke my stroke, and Shiro made sure the new varnish, bright red, shined. Keith was allowed to help him wax it and stencil on the old racing numbers.

The engine was a labor of love for both of them, a tightrope between Shiro’s wishes and Keith’s. Keith wanted something that could go _fast_. Shiro just needed something that worked, something reliable.

They compromised.

It was fast, but not too fast. It _worked_ , but there was that taste of danger in a few of the parts, modified past the purpose of functionality. Shiro tutted at them, but when Keith eyes blazed with excitement, he could never say no.

It took a few weeks to get the bike back in full working order; most of that time was spent waiting for parts to reach their corner of obscurity.

They tested it over and over again. Shiro wasn’t happy until she started up silently, until she could take slow laps around the house for hours without so much as a hiccup.

Keith grinned.

“Can we go now?”

They waited until the sun kissed the mountains, a picnic basket and blanket weighing heavily on the back of the speeder. Shiro drove, riding out into the great beyond with Keith’s arms tight around his waist, into the stars with Keith at his back. Keith was different, he was different, but with the wind blinding them both, who could tell? Who _cared_?

They were free.

* * *

Keith fought the urge to stand up and shout, to scream his love into the heavens, his excitement manifesting in an energy that had him holding on tighter to Shiro, trying to hide his smile in Shiro’s back.

They flew for forever but were there too soon, a pile of rocks haphazardly left out on the sand by erosion. They giggled as they climbed to the top. The purple sky silhouetted Shiro when he turned to smile at some dumb joke.

They knew this outcropping, knew these rocks, and though the footholds they remembered had changed over the years, they knew the path. The flat rock at the top was just how Keith remembered it, from back when he was young and dumb and seventeen and had a crush bigger than his heart could handle.

He’d had his first sip of alcohol on top of this rock.

He’d had his first kiss on top of this rock.

Judging by the stars in Shiro’s eyes, it was hitting him just as hard.

Keith slotted his hand into Shiro’s.

“It’s been a long time,” Shiro choked out, watching the sky change colors.

“Yeah.”

They spread the blanket out silently, eager to share a smile or two, but more eager to share the night.

Shiro made sure Keith drank an entire bottle of water, _yes, Keith, an entire bottle_ , and they finally settled in to wait. Not long.

Keith was the first to lay back, ready to behold whatever wonders hid behind the light of day. Shiro joined him, resting his head on Keith’s shoulder. Keith threaded his arm behind Shiro’s back and pulled him in closer. He leaned down and pressed a soft kiss into the line of his hair, eyes not leaving the sky for a second.

“Memories?” he asked.

“Only good ones.”

Keith hummed.

And night fell.

The stars, they—

There were no words to describe it. Once, he’d looked up and thought the sky was empty, that there was nothing to find, not there. It had all been drowned out by the city lights and the noise of all the things that didn’t matter, but then Shiro—

Shiro had taken him here.

They faded into sight out of nothing. There was nothing, and then there was _something_. There was everything, and god, it was so _close_. Closer now than it used to be, now that Keith had gotten to visit thousands of those stars up close. It was everything and it was so bright. It flickered and shifted, twisted as the light passed through hundreds, thousands, millions, billions of years just to reach their eyes. When they were out there, it was hard to remember what it was like, to sit here, on Earth, the rock beneath them and love in their arms, and _remember_ what it was like to dream.

They dreamed of the up there, of the out there, of the far away, but _now_ —

Now.

It was beautiful, it was awe-inspiring, it was painted by the gods, but he didn’t want it anymore. He had everything he wanted. He had his dream right here.

He looked down at Shiro, at the stars freckling his skin, and Keith didn’t want anything else.

**Author's Note:**

> twitter [@oldmythos](https://twitter.com/oldmythos)
> 
> tumblr [@oldmythos](http://oldmythos.tumblr.com)


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